Ponyboy's Theme
by MBP
Summary: Pony finally goes back to school after the events of the book, and he gets a new English teacher. UPDATED: The memorial service chapter is finally up. It's very long, and it might be the last chapter.
1. Chapter 1

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Disclaimer: I don't own any characters from The Outsiders, only the one new teacher I've created.

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I sat at the desk in my classroom, rubbing my eyes tiredly. If I had to read one more theme about getting a new pet or "what I did over my summer vacation," I thought I just might scream. But then I saw the next paper in my stack, and my eyes widened. He'd turned it in. I hadn't expected that. 

Ponyboy hadn't been in my class very long. He'd switched in from Mr. Symes' class after he came back to school because he'd been pretty far behind in his work after all the school he'd missed, and my class was paced differently. But I knew that wasn't the only reason he was suddenly in my charge. I have a reputation for listening and for getting my students to open up, and I knew everyone was hoping I'd have success with Ponyboy. I was hoping that too. I liked him already. I knew he liked Mr. Syme, but he was a respectful kid. Even though he'd probably have preferred to stay in that class, he seemed to be adjusting ok even though he didn't talk much.

I knew Pony had been having a rough time of it lately – there weren't many people who didn't know what was going on with him. It was plastered all over the newspapers. And when I opened this theme, I released a deep breath. I knew this was something he'd needed to write. I could see it in his eyes. He needed a way to release everything that had been happening to him, everything I'd been reading about in the newspapers, and since I didn't really expect him to do much talking, I wasn't surprised to see it all come out here. I was just glad he was giving me a chance to read it. I knew it had been written with Syme in mind. Maybe he was starting to trust me too.

I didn't realize how long I'd been reading when I heard the radiators turn off. I looked up and realized it had gotten dark outside. I also realized that my eyes were having trouble focusing on the page, and it wasn't because I was tired. It was from the tears that had been obscuring my vision as I'd gotten closer to the end of this paper. I knew my students' lives weren't easy. Half of them were from the "other side of the tracks," but I didn't quite know how to deal with what Pony had written in here. Part of me wanted to stop reading; part of me wanted to adopt him, and part of me just wanted to talk to him. I knew that the only one of those that remained an option was the third. I would have to talk to him.

I forced myself to finish reading, and when I was done, I tentatively put my pen to the bottom of the last page, wondering how to express the experience I'd just had. Finally, I just started to write slowly.

_Ponyboy – it's hard for me to know what to write here because this paper isn't like any I've read before. You have captured a time in your life that few people will ever experience, but you've captured it with honesty and sincerity. Thank you for letting me know just a little bit of what your life has been like. I'm so sorry for the hard times, but with a talent like yours, I can't imagine that things won't get better. Please know that I'm here, too, if you ever want to talk about any of this._

I put his paper at the bottom of the stack and looked at the few that remained. I should have saved Pony's for last because the rest would seem like meaningless drivel in comparison, but at least they'd go faster. I finished grading in record time and then drove home slowly, wondering what on earth I would say to Ponyboy tomorrow…


	2. Chapter 2

Disclaimer: It belongs to S.E. Hinton

I arrived at school the next morning with a pit in my stomach. I didn't know if Pony would want to talk to me, and my policy has always been not to push my students, but I couldn't help the feeling that he wouldn't have written something like this if he hadn't wanted me to take notice, to ask about it. All I knew was this – he didn't have to turn this in to me. With the talent this kid has, he could have whipped up something really fast and just turned that in. He made his choice, so I made mine.

When I checked his schedule, I was happy to find that he had lunch when I was off. Now it was just a matter of seeing if he would give up some of that precious free time to talk to me. I knew a lot of my students would have said yes in a heartbeat, but I also knew to tread lightly with this one. He might say yes quickly, but he might just as easily say no. It would all depend on the way I approached it.

When it was time for his class to come in, I watched him take his self-chosen seat in the back of the room. Even though he dressed like the tougher kids in the class, I knew enough now to see the vulnerability in his eyes even though it was clear to me that he was also trying desperately to hide it. I waited until everyone was seated and the bell had rung to address the class.

"So guess what everybody?" I started cheerfully. They looked at me expectantly, and I shook my head laughing. "No, I should just tell you. You'll never guess."

Ted called out, jokingly, "Don't tell us you graded the themes already, Mrs. Nelson… there's no way _you _could work _that _fast."

I didn't even bother answering. I reached behind me and pulled the papers out of where I'd been hiding them, and most of my students' jaws dropped in shock.

"Whoah…" Ted muttered. "Who are you, and what did you do with our English teacher?"

"Well," I teased as I circulated the room, dropping the papers on the students' desks, "when the product is so good, I can't stop myself. I become a speed demon."

They laughed but were quickly silent, reading through the comments I'd written in the margins of their papers. I'd saved Pony's paper for last, so I could talk to him when I returned it. He looked at me anxiously when I finally reached his desk, and I crouched down, so I was at his eye level. After reading about everything he'd been through, I wasn't surprised to see his reaction to the A+ on the last page of his very long theme.

"Pony," I said quietly, "this paper is one of the best I've ever read. Would you stop by during your lunch period today, so I can talk to you about it for a little while? It won't take very long, so you can still meet up with your friends."

He tried to hide it, but I noticed that he flinched slightly when I mentioned his friends, and that's when it occurred to me. He'd probably eaten lunch with Johnny everyday. So many parts of his life had changed, even the seemingly inconsequential ones like who he'd sit with in the school cafeteria. He nodded quickly, though. He almost seemed relieved by the invitation.

"Sure, Mrs. Nelson. Should I just come here?"

I nodded, relieved that he didn't say no. "Yeah, I'll be here. Talk to you then."

I walked away from his desk, my heart aching for him. Suddenly, his lunch period seemed very far away.

It wasn't, of course. In two short hours, I had just sat down at my desk in the quiet of the classroom when I heard a knock on the door.

"Come in!" I shouted and felt a small rush of gratitude when Pony pushed open the door and sat down in a seat in front of my desk.

I smiled at him. "I'm glad you came," I said cheerfully.

"I'm glad you asked me," he replied softly. He reached into his backpack then and pulled out his theme. Then he hesitated and turned to me. "I also have a sandwich with me… do you … do you mind if I eat it here?"

I shook my head quickly. "Of course not. Please, eat."

To make him more comfortable, I pulled out my lunch as well. Then I said, "want to move your seat over here? That way we can look at the theme together."

He nodded and picked up his chair, moving it alongside of my desk, bringing his lunch with him. Suddenly sitting side by side, I was calmer and felt more confident. His theme had shaken me up, but this position of sitting with a student over a paper was a return to normalcy. And when I relaxed, I sensed that Pony did too. It always amazes me just how my students pick up any vibes I may be sending.

I took his theme from where it was in danger of becoming coated with mustard, and I flipped through it.

"Can I tell you which parts were my favorite?" I asked.

He nodded eagerly. I couldn't believe how much I wanted to boost his confidence. It was clear to me that he'd never received this much individualized attention from a teacher before, and he was relishing every minute of it.

The first page I stopped on was the one where he'd described Soda's horse. I watched him as he looked down at it, and he paled slightly. Then he smiled.

"He'd kill me if he knew I'd written about that."

I laughed. "Well, don't worry. The only way he'd ever know is if it were ever published."

Pony laughed too. "Some chance of that happening."

We were both starting to relax, but as I traveled further into his story with him, he started to tense up again. I knew he was reliving it with me, and I wanted to find some way of telling him that it was ok to talk about it.

We had just read what he had written about Dally dying when I looked at the clock. There were still 20 minutes left. And as we sat there, I knew we'd need every second of it. Because in the silence that followed our brief discussion of his very vivid imagery, I heard his breathing change, and when I looked at him, he was looking down and away.

"Pony," I almost whispered, "it's ok to still be sad about this. I'm sad about it too."

He didn't turn back, but he did start to talk.

"I don't know how to feel… I guess I learned with my parents that missing them won't bring them back… but I don't know how to feel better. Because this wasn't mom or dad… these were my friends. They…" and he couldn't go on. His shoulders had started to shake, and I sat quietly, saying nothing, unaware that my hand had drifted to his back where I patted him gently, waiting for him to calm down. It took him a few minutes to pull himself together, to finally look back at me, and when he did, he smiled halfheartedly, swiping at his eyes quickly with the back of his hand.

"Thanks," he mumbled, staring down at the theme again. I took one look at him and closed it, pushing it back across the desk, so he could put it away. he looked at me in surprise, and I smiled gently.

"Pony, I think you've had enough conferencing for one day. But if you ever want to come back again this period, just stop by. You never have to ask."

He smiled at me, but I could see that his eyes were still full of tears as he turned to glance at the clock. He turned back to me and said, "I know we have five minutes left, but would it be ok if I stayed until the end?"

"Of course," I said quickly. I could tell he wanted to say something else, so I looked away to give him the courage to say whatever it was without having to face my direct eye contact.

It came out quietly, but he sounded nervous. "You won't… you won't tell anyone about this conference, right?"

My heart almost broke, but I acted as casually as I possibly could. "Why would I?" I asked, glancing at him, and he actually relaxed again, smiling more than he had earlier.

"Thanks, Mrs. Nelson. I'm glad I'm in this class."

I looked him in the eye for the first time since he'd broken down. "So am I, Pony. So am I."


	3. Chapter 3

Disclaimer: Still belongs to S.E. Hinton

A/N: Thanks for the reviews… I really didn't know what to expect.

My first meeting with Ponyboy seemed like a small blip in the radar of our interactions at first. I knew it increased his confidence in his writing, but I also knew it would take a little while before he could accept the fact that I really would listen to him, so I gave him time. I didn't ask him to meet for another conference for a couple of weeks, and it was when I was trying to keep everything as light as possible that I noticed Pony was starting to open up more in class.

When he was first put into the room, the other kids initially gave him a pretty wide berth. It was obvious to me that they had also been reading the newspapers, or at least their parents had, and they seemed to have caught the international teenage affliction… if something bad happened to him, they suddenly realized, something bad could happen to them. For some reason, at least at first, they always seem to think that bad news is catching. It makes me a little crazy, but what could I do? I couldn't force anyone to talk to him, but luckily, within the first two months of his being in the class, they slowly started to forget that he hadn't been there all along, and as they welcomed him into their groups, I watched him smile for the first time in a very long time.

It was one day when the students were reading each other's rough drafts that I started to think maybe Pony would start to make some real friends in here. They had written about an important person in their lives as a pre-reading activity for _Catcher in the Rye_, and I was having them share their work in pairs. As they read and commented on each other's papers, I walked around the room, listening to their conversations and occasionally making my own comments. I paused by Pony for a little longer than usual, and he didn't even notice me at first. He was caught up in explaining what he'd enjoyed in Justin's paper, and I noticed that Justin's eyes had widened in surprise as he realized that Pony was giving him critiques like he normally received from me. It was the first time that he'd worked with him, and he was starting to understand what I already knew. When it came to writing, Pony really knew his stuff.

I started really listening to what Pony was saying:

"Justin, it's really good. Honest. But I have an idea. See, when you write about your Dad, instead of just describing his personality or what he looks like, you want to actually _show _it so your audience knows why he means so much to you. Like… tell a story. Use dialogue. Know what I mean?"

Justin nodded. "Yeah, I do. Thanks. Can I – can I read yours now? I really want to see how you did this."

Pony nodded agreeably and passed his paper across to Justin. I caught sight of the top of the page, and I stiffened. He'd written about Johnny. I was thrilled that he was already both willing and able to do that, but I hoped Justin would know enough to be sensitive to it. I needn't have worried. Pony had gotten his full respect with the way he'd discussed Justin's paper. I just didn't know why I didn't expect the reaction Justin _did _have.

I was working with the pair of students next to Justin and Ponyboy when I noticed a shadow cast across the page I was reading. I glanced up, and Justin was standing in front of me, staring at his feet.

"Yeah?" I asked, trying not to sound impatient. I was on the verge of losing my concentration, but then I happened to notice the look on Pony's face as he stared at his own notebook, and I looked more closely at Justin. Before I could process what I was seeing, he mumbled, "Can I go to the bathroom?" I nodded quickly as he bolted from the room, and I let out a deep breath. If Pony's theme had made _me _cry, I don't know how I could have expected my students to react any differently when _they_ read his writing. I just hoped Pony wouldn't take it the wrong way.

I quickly finished up what I was reading, and then walked over to where he was sitting alone, waiting for Justin to come back. He glanced up at me as I perched on Justin's desk, and he mumbled, "Sorry."

I shook my head. "Don't apologize. It's the mark of a good writer. And Justin will be ok. I just… don't think he's used to reading something like that from someone his own age. That's all. But the good news is that since you _are _his age and you _are _in his class, he can actually talk to you about it… as long as you don't mind."

Pony started to brighten up, and he actually smiled. "Actually… I don't think I'll mind at all. It might… it might be nice."

I smiled too, but then I realized that Justin still hadn't come back.

"I'll be right back, Pony," I said, and he nodded. I walked over to the door and stuck my head out into the hall. Justin was approaching from the opposite end slowly, and he'd shaken his hair into his eyes. I glanced behind me to make sure everyone was still working, and then I slipped into the hall to wait for him. As he got closer, he noticed me standing there, and he slumped against the wall next to the door.

"I feel like an idiot," he muttered as he avoided eye contact.

I leaned against the wall next to him and said "Don't."

He snorted, and I continued. "Honestly, Justin… Pony's work makes me cry every time I read it. Don't feel like an idiot. You're in good company."

He started to smile, but it quickly faded. "Yeah, but you didn't lose it in class in front of him, Mrs. Nelson. God… I feel so stupid."

I turned to face him even though it was clear he didn't want me looking at him. I waited until he reluctantly met my gaze.

"Justin, listen to me now, and then it's time to go back in. I'm almost glad this happened today. I mean I'm sorry that reading his work made you sad, but that also shows Pony that you care, and after reading what he wrote, I'm pretty sure you know he needs that. And I think you two would probably be good friends for each other. Ok?"

He looked at me for a minute, and I knew he was thinking about conversations that he and I'd had about his own family. Then he nodded.

"Yeah. Ok."

As I turned to open the door, he said urgently, "Mrs. Nelson!" I turned and he asked quietly, "I don't look… I don't look like I've been…"

I stopped him. "Not in the least. Come on."

He let out a sigh of relief and slipped back into his own seat before anyone could notice that we'd been in the hall together. And as I watched from the front of the room, I could see that Pony had made a new friend. And I let out my own sigh of relief. Maybe things were finally on the right track.


	4. Chapter 4

Disclaimer: S.E. Hinton owns it.

A/N: As I said last time, thanks for the reviews. As to the lack of formality in the student/teacher interactions… well, I think if it were to happen like this at any time, the 1960's seems the most likely. The times they were a'changin' after all. So to continue…

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As the month continued to progress, tensions seemed to settle down throughout the rest of the school. I wasn't hearing as many mutterings in the hallways, and as I kept my eye on Ponyboy, he seemed to be readjusting pretty nicely. But then the administration did something stupid. Something very stupid. Something so phenomenally absurd that it took every ounce of my willpower not to march into the principal's office and scream _what are you thinking_?

They planned a memorial service. But they only planned it for Bob Sheldon. There was no acknowledgement of Johnny, and considering how the trial had turned out and the way we all knew things had really gone down, it was pretty clear that Bob's parents' money was speaking a lot louder than the truth of the situation warranted. We all knew Johnny had saved those kids in the fire and died a hero, and we all knew Bob died because Johnny was protecting Ponyboy from him. But we also all knew that Bob's parents had more money than they knew what to do with, and in their understandably overwhelming grief, they insisted on the one thing they could still control. They wanted a memorial service, and they were paying for it. I just couldn't understand why the administrators conceded to their one request: if they were to give the school money in exchange for holding this service, then the school couldn't also hold a service for Johnny. It just didn't seem fair. And I knew I would not be the only person who felt that way.

On the day that the announcement was made, Pony wasn't in class. I knew he'd been in school because he'd passed me in the hall in the morning, but I didn't think he'd seen me. I assumed that this wasn't the first time he'd ever cut a class, but it _was_ the first time he'd cut mine, and I had a knot in my stomach. Considering the relationship that he and I had started to develop, I guessed that he was probably too upset to deal with someone who would actually notice. I hoped I'd have a chance to talk to him that afternoon, but he somehow managed to avoid my radar, and I just figured that tomorrow would be a new day.

Well, it was a new day… a new day where he still didn't show up for English. And that's when I realized that he was probably more upset than even I'd imagined. I didn't want to drag the dean into a situation where I didn't think detention would solve a much larger problem, so I did something I normally save as a last resort. I called home. I did it in the middle of the day right after I'd seen Pony from a distance, so I knew he wouldn't be the one to answer.

I sat in the phone closet inside the English office and dialed slowly, sighing as I thought about how to handle this. Most phone calls home aren't necessarily pleasant, and I knew that this would probably be one of the more difficult ones.

The phone had rung four times, and I'd almost given up when, suddenly, someone answered.

"Hello?" It was a male voice, but I had no idea who it was. After reading Pony's theme, I'd come to realize that any of a number of people could be answering their phone at any given time.

"Hi, may I speak to Darryl Curtis, please?"

"Oh, he's at work right now. Can I take a message?"

"Sure. This is Mrs. Nelson, Pony's English teacher. Could you ask him to call me when he gets a chance?"

There was a momentary silence on the other end, and then the voice returned with a hint of worry.

"Hi, Mrs. Nelson. This is Soda, Pony's other brother. Is – is everything ok?"

I almost smiled. Pony's theme had made me really like Soda.

"Well, I should really speak to your older brother about this because he's technically Pony's guardian, but I will tell you not to worry. I'm sure everything will be ok." I tried to reassure him even though I knew how hollow those words could sound to someone who was pretty well-versed in the fact that things _didn't_ have to always turn out ok.

He seemed to take me at my word, though, and said "Thanks. I'll tell Darry you called."

"Thanks, Soda."

We hung up, and I let out a deep breath. I just hoped this would resolve things before they got any worse.


	5. Chapter 5

Disclaimer: Still don't own it.

Classes had just ended for the day when the phone rang, but one of my colleagues got to it first. When she yelled out my name, I practically raced for the closet. I just knew who it had to be, and I was right.

"Hi, Mrs. Nelson? This is Darryl Curtis. My brother told me you called about Pony?"

I felt a pang as I heard the concern in his voice, and I hoped he'd understand what I was about to say and not get too angry at Pony for cutting class. I had a feeling, though, that once I explained the circumstances, we'd be on the same wavelength.

"Hi Darryl. I'm a little worried about Pony these days, and I wanted to talk to you about it."

He took a deep breath. "Well, I'm sure that you know all about the memorial service… it has Pony pretty shook up." I could hear a hint of bitterness in his voice and knew that Pony wasn't the only one who was shaken up, but I just continued.

"I completely understand why he'd be upset… but my problem is more related to English, actually. He hasn't been in class in two days."

Darry let out an explosive breath. "He – what?" he said sharply. "But that doesn't make sense. Pony loves English, and I know he likes you. What is he _doing_?"

"Well," I began slowly, "I think I can almost explain it. Pony knew I'd expect him to be upset about the memorial service, so he didn't want to have to deal with that. And as I said… that's understandable. But I think the problem now is that he doesn't know how to come back now that he's cut twice. So I wanted to bring this to your attention to see how you wanted to handle this… because I can't very well make him come back if I don't see him."

There was silence on the other end of the phone, and then Darry said, "Thanks for understanding my brother better than most people do."

I smiled. "You're very welcome. Now… how should we deal with this? Do you want to have a meeting? If you come, he has no choice. And then we can at least get this resolved in person before it gets any worse."

"That's a great idea," Darry said, sounding relieved. "But when can we meet? I work everyday."

"Well, can you come in before school in the morning? What time do you have to be at work?"

"I have work at 9, so that would be fine. What time would be good for you?"

We set up the meeting, and as we were hanging up, Darry said, "Thanks, Mrs. Nelson. You made this a lot easier than it could have been."

"Thank _you_, Darry," I replied seriously. "If more parents could be like you, my job would be a lot easier."

He was quiet for a moment, and I suddenly wondered if I'd said too much, but then he mumbled "Thanks, see you tomorrow" very quickly and the line went dead.

I stared off into space as I slowly replaced the receiver in the cradle. I just wished there were more I could do to help this family I was coming to care very much about.


	6. Chapter 6

Disclaimer: It belongs to S.E. Hinton.

I woke early the next morning and without a problem for a change. I knew I had to get to school on time for my meeting with Darry and Pony, and for once, I wasn't tempted to sleep through my alarm clock. I showered and dressed in record time and was out the door before my husband even turned over in bed.

When I got to school, I went directly to my classroom, which was where Darry and I had agreed we should meet. I didn't want Pony to feel like we were ganging up on him, not if we were going to have any chance of reaching him, so I figured a familiar environment would be best.

I was there early, so I'd just started planning out some lessons for later in the week when I heard a knock on the door. I put down my pen and looked up expectantly.

"Come in," I called out, relaxing slightly when Darry walked in the room, followed by a very sullen-looking Ponyboy. I sighed. This wasn't going to be easy. I motioned for them to sit at the desks in front of mine, and they both did, Pony refusing to make eye contact as he stared intently at the intricate designs that had been carved into the wood. Darry looked at me helplessly, obviously at a loss for where to begin. I knew I would have to take the lead, so I sat forward in my chair and looked straight at Ponyboy.

"Pony, I want you to know why we're having this meeting today. It isn't to punish you, but it is because your brother and I are both worried about you. I won't lie. I'm very disappointed that you missed my class. But if this were a disciplinary meeting, the dean would be here. I called Darry because I think there's more to you not coming to English than just an impulsive decision to cut class, and we wanted you to have a chance to explain it."

Pony didn't look up, and he didn't answer. Darry sighed and leaned over to him.

"Pone," he said softly, "it'd be stupid not to say something now. You have a chance to tell your side here. _Take it_."

At first, it seemed like Pony was still going to remain in his cocoon of silence, but by mutual agreement, Darry and I sat back and waited… and it paid off.

"I'm sorry," Pony mumbled, so quietly at first that neither Darry nor I were sure that he'd even spoken. I leaned forward again, and Darry put his hand on Pony's shoulder.

"What did you say, little buddy?" he asked gently, and Pony suddenly looked up, his eyes suspiciously bright.

"I said I'm sorry," he choked. "I don't know what I was doing. When I heard all that stuff about Bob, part of me even wanted to talk to you about it, Mrs. Nelson, but it's the school that's doing it, and you work for the school! I just couldn't say anything to you without knowing how you'd react, and I was afraid of how I would face you if it turned out that you _didn't_ understand. And then after I didn't come that first day, I didn't know how I'd _ever_ come back…" Here he trailed off, and I could immediately see how embarrassed he was to be in danger of losing control, so I started to speak to give him a chance to compose himself.

"Pony, I'm so glad I got a chance to hear your side of this. I knew you'd be upset that day, and I can understand why you'd feel uncomfortable bringing it up to me, but I hope you realize that I will _always _listen to you whether I agree with you or not. And Pony – just because I work for the school doesn't mean I have to agree with everything they do. And after reading your theme, their actions are hard for even _me _to understand."

I looked at him carefully, and he nodded quickly, looking relieved but still very upset.

"Thanks, Mrs. Nelson. I – I guess I knew you'd feel that way. I was just so afraid that you didn't, and then I didn't know _what_ I'd do. I mean it's bad enough that the whole school is against Johnny…" and here he trailed off again. I knew that his battle against tears this time would be even harder, and I didn't know how to help him. Luckily, I didn't have to. Darry had been watching Pony too, and as I watched the Curtis brothers, Darry pulled his seat closer to Pony and put his arm around him. Pony dropped his head, but I could see his shoulder's shaking under Darry's arm, and when Darry finally looked at me, I could see that this was taking its toll on him as well. I couldn't forget that he'd loved Johnny too.

I waited a moment and then an idea struck me. I said softly, "well, I know the school made its own promises, but maybe there's something _you_ can do."

Darry and Pony both looked at me curiously, and I took a deep breath and continued.

"Even if you can't hold it on school grounds, you could have your own memorial service for Johnny. You could even have it in the park or something. You won't be able to put up posters about it, but word of mouth travels fast too."

They looked at me and then turned to look at each other. They were both starting to smile, and I felt as if a huge weight had been lifted. Maybe this was the kind of closure they all needed.


	7. Chapter 7

Disclaimer: I don't own The Outsiders.

In the days following my meeting with Darry and Pony, Pony turned his attendance record around and was not only back in class everyday, but he even stopped by occasionally on his lunch period to talk to me about the memorial that he and his brothers had started planning. They wouldn't have enough time to have it before Bob's memorial service, so they were planning it for two weeks afterwards. It seemed like a good idea to me, and I tried to help Pony in any way I could with advice and suggestions. And then I got a note in my mailbox to report to the principal.

As soon as I saw the note, I knew what was coming. My principal is notorious in our school for catering to parents, and the fact that I had a student who was planning something that could potentially upset a parent with money… well, there was really very little question of why I was being called on the carpet, so to speak.

I showed up at the appointed time, fully prepared to defend myself, and his secretary told me to go right in. He was obviously expecting me, so I took a deep breath and squared my shoulders. This was not going to be easy.

Bill was sitting at his desk when I walked in, and he glanced up at me with a forced smile.

"Sarah, thanks for coming. Take a seat, please."

"Thanks," I said, settling myself in to the chair across from him. He finished whatever he was writing, and then he finally looked up.

"Let me explain why I called you in here. Some relatively distressing rumors have been floating around to the effect that Ponyboy Curtis is planning a memorial service for Johnny Cade." He pursed his lips and looked straight at me for the first time since I sat down. "That, in and of itself, is really not my concern since he is not doing this on school property. What _is _my concern, however, is that I have heard that you are encouraging this."

I looked at him calmly and said, "I _am_ encouraging this. Bob's parents are not the only people who lost someone, and whether they are admitting it or not, Bob was killed when he was in the process of trying to kill someone else. Johnny may have done it, but it was clearly out of an effort to save his friend. And then _he _died a hero… which is a lot more than I can say for Bob. I understand the conditions of Bob's memorial service, and whether I agree with it or not, I am respecting it. But there is nothing to say that the community cannot hold a service for Johnny…and I am a member of this community in addition to being a teacher in this school. I'm not telling you _not _to have a memorial service for Bob, and Bill, you can't tell me not to go to the one for Johnny."

He sat there in stunned silence for a moment before heaving a sigh. I could see he knew he was beaten, but he also needed to have the last word.

"Just be careful with what you say about Bob's memorial service. If I hear that you're criticizing this, it could mean bigger problems than I think you realize."

I nodded curtly and stood up before I could roll my eyes in frustration. I walked out of the office, seething. Now I was more committed than ever to helping Ponyboy with his memorial. It already seemed so much more meaningful than the school's false display of sympathy.


	8. Chapter 8

Disclaimer: I don't own The Outsiders.

On the day of Bob's memorial service, Pony unexpectedly showed up at my classroom on his lunch period. I had been reading for my next class when he came bursting in. I took one look at him and stayed quiet. It was obvious he had plenty to say because these sudden visits had been happening with increasing frequency over the past two weeks, so I now knew the signs.

He started pacing back and forth in front of my desk, mumbling to himself, when he finally stopped and sat down on a desk in the front row.

"I don't get it!" he exclaimed. "I know the memorial service for Bob is this afternoon, and I understand that he had friends who are upset about this. But why do _all of us _have to go? How can they _require _something like this!"

He stared at me in utter confusion, and I wished I had an answer to an impossible question. But all I could do was repeat what I'd been saying all week.

"Pony, I know it seems unfair, but it _is_ a school-wide event, so there's really nothing we can do about it. It will be over soon enough, though, so you can move on and focus on Johnny's memorial."

He nodded, but a look passed across his face so quickly I almost thought I was imagining things. I knew I wasn't, though. And I suddenly realized what was really bothering Pony. I'd been right. Once Bob's service was over, he'd have to focus on Johnny's… and I wasn't sure just how ready he was to do that in spite of his intense desire to have this memorial. I sighed.

"So how are plans coming along for Johnny's?" I asked tentatively. "I know it's next Friday, but have you figured out who's doing what yet?"

"Yeah. Darry's introducing it, and then I'm definitely saying _something_. Then whoever else wants to talk can say something. And I think Soda wants to talk last, so he can end it."

"That sounds good," I said encouragingly. Then I paused. "Have you – have you figured out what you're going to say?"

He shook his head, and I said "Well, if you write something and want another set of eyes to look at it, you know I will."

He glanced at me and smiled. "Thanks, Mrs. Nelson. I think I'll write it this weekend, so maybe I'll bring it to you this period on Monday."

"Not a problem," I said reassuringly. "I'm sure it'll be great."

Pony nodded and then glanced at the clock.

"I should get going," he muttered. "The memorial starts as soon as this period is over, and I want to make sure I get a seat in the very back of the auditorium."

He didn't get up, though, and I realized what he was trying not to say, so I started to get my things together.

"If you wait a minute," I told him, carefully not looking up, "I'll go down there with you. We can sit together."

I heard his almost inaudible sigh of relief. "Ok, I'll wait," he said, clearly trying to sound nonchalant.

We walked down the almost empty hallway and stopped outside the auditorium. I leaned against the wall as we waited for the bell to ring. Pony was staring at his feet, and my heart ached for him. I had some idea of how hard this next hour would be.

The minute the bell rang, he and I walked into the auditorium and took seats in the very back. Classes were over for the day in order to accommodate this service, so I was able to sit wherever I liked, and I knew Pony needed me there with him.

The rest of the auditorium filled up fairly quickly, and when everyone was seated, Bill got up and began to talk about how Bob was such an asset to our school and how sorely he will be missed. I was listening respectfully, but I was mostly aware of Pony next to me. He had slid down in his seat and was staring at the seat in front of him intently, but I could almost feel the waves of misery radiating off him.

Things got infinitely worse, though, when Bob's parents spoke. His mother was unable to stop crying, and his father's voice shook. I'd almost managed to forget how hard this would be for them, and my eyes stung with tears when I saw their anguish. I glanced down and out of the corner of my eye, I noticed Pony sliding even further down in his seat. I rested my arm on the side of his seat just so he'd know I was there and still thinking of him. He didn't move, though, until the last person got up to speak. I knew him too. His name was Randy, and he'd been in my class two years earlier. I liked him a lot, but I didn't know why Pony was suddenly paying so much attention for the first time.

Randy took a deep breath and let it out slowly. "I don't want to say a lot. I just want to say that Bob was a good friend to me. I'm going to miss him a lot. I know he wasn't perfect, but he still had his very good points, and things won't be the same without him. He – well, he ..." and he trailed off, his voice choking up. He looked down at the podium, and when he looked up, his eyes were full of tears. He glanced over at Bob's parents and said, "I'm sorry, but I have to say this. I loved Bob, and this was an important memorial service, but there's another important one too. It's for Johnny Cade; it's next week in the park, and I'm going there too. I hope everyone does. Thanks."

He got off the stage without looking at the Sheldons again, and I glanced at Pony in amazement. He was still staring at Randy as he went back to his seat, and although his jaw was set, I could see his lower lip trembling. He suddenly looked at me and shook his head wordlessly and then got up and walked out. I could tell he wanted to be alone, so I let him go. Now I was even more worried about how he would handle Johnny's memorial. This wasn't going to be easy, but I knew what my most important role would be… being there. I just hoped it would help.

A/N: Next chapter… Johnny's memorial. I promise.


	9. Chapter 9

Disclaimer: S.E. Hinton owns The Outsiders.

It was a sunny day when Johnny's memorial service finally arrived. School seemed longer than usual, and I could tell Pony felt the same way because he didn't stop fidgeting for the entire 45 minutes of English. I had a feeling he'd show up on his lunch period, and he didn't let me down.

I'd been grading papers when Pony walked in, and at first, he just sat on the same desk in the front row, staring at the floor. I glanced up a few times, but he didn't seem ready to talk, so I didn't say anything either. After about five minutes of silence, he finally spoke.

"I …" he trailed off, and I looked up, curious. He looked at me then, and there was a pained look on his face. "I don't know what it's going to be like today," he finished.

"What do you mean?" I asked gently. "You told me you had the whole thing planned, so you know what to expect, right?"

"Yeah, that's not what I mean," he said. He sighed. "I know the order of the service and all that. It's just…" he trailed off again. I waited, and he finally continued. "We never had a funeral for Johnny, and I'm worried about how I'll react," he said in a rush.

My heart sank, and I said, "Well, I don't really see what there is to worry about. Everyone's going to be sad. You know that. I can't imagine you'll be reacting much differently from anyone else. I mean… it's not like you haven't been to a funeral before, right?"

As soon as the words were out of my mouth, I wished with all of my heart that I could pull them right back in. The look on Pony's face was devastating, and I suddenly remembered the one thing he's never talked to me about… his parents.

My mouth was opening in a desperate attempt to apologize, but he must have seen that in my face because he said in a low voice, "No, it's ok. You're right. It's _not _like I've never been to a funeral before. But that one…" and he shook his head, suddenly unable to speak. I waited silently, and he managed to say, "that one was really, really bad. I don't want to be like that at this one."

I waited for him to look up again, and when he didn't, I got up from my chair and came around my desk to sit on the one next to his. I squeezed his shoulder, and he nodded his acknowledgement but still didn't look up. "Thanks," he muttered.

He was still staring at the floor when he said, "I couldn't stop crying at my parents' funeral. Soda was bad too. Darry – well, Darry was his usual self. I know he was sad, but he's always in control. I'm just afraid that today will be like that, but I don't know if anyone will understand it as much as they did when it was for our parents."

I took a deep breath, trying to control my own voice and not let my overwhelming sympathy come out.

"Pony, I'll make you a promise. You know I'm going to be there. If it's as bad as you think it'll be, I promise I'll understand. You can always talk to me."

At this, Pony finally looked up and smiled half-heartedly. "Thanks, Mrs. Nelson. I do know, and I'll probably take you up on that."

I nodded and said, "It starts at 4:00, right?"

"Yeah, and I'm talking second to last, right before Soda. We changed the order a little."

I looked at him in concern. "Are you sure you want to do that? It won't be easier for you to just get it over with?"

He shook his head. "Nah. I think I need to see other people talk to know how they do it. I'll be fine. Thanks, though, for worrying." He sighed. "I should get going. But – I'll see you there, right? You'll find me?"

I nodded as reassuringly as I could manage. "I'll sit right up front and off to the side. It'll be easy for you to see me."

He seemed to relax as he grabbed his backpack and stood up. "Ok.. I'll see you then. And I know I said this already, but thanks. Thanks a lot."

I smiled as much as I could manage. "You know I'm here for you Pony. No need for thanks."

He nodded and walked out of the room. I ran my hands through my hair and tried to swallow my anxiety. I was suddenly very aware of just how hard this afternoon might be. My conversation with Ponyboy had reminded me that even though he had his brothers, he didn't have anyone maternal who could provide any comfort, and sometimes, that's the only kind anyone wants. I had a feeling I had suddenly been given that role.

When school ended, I got my things together as quickly as possible. I wanted to get to the park early to make sure I was sitting where I told Pony I'd be. I had a feeling he needed the reassurance of seeing me there and as soon as possible.

I was walking out of the building when Bill approached me.

"Sarah, can I speak to you for a minute?"

I stopped and looked at him questioningly. "Sure, what is it?"

He motioned for me to follow him out of the way of the doorway before he began to speak.

"Well," he paused, looking uncomfortable, but then he finally said, "thank you for what you've been doing for this other service. I know you haven't had a hands-on role, but I've heard from a lot of people that you're providing a lot of emotional support for Ponyboy, and after speaking to Randy after Bob's memorial, I've started to realize what actually happened that night. I just wanted to apologize for our meeting a couple of weeks ago. I'm glad you're doing this, and I'm glad at least one of our teachers will be representing our school at Johnny's memorial."

I stared at Bill for a moment before letting out a deep breath I didn't know I'd been holding. I smiled at him sincerely for the first time in a month.

"Thanks, Bill. I know the other memorial was important to have as well. Bob _was_ a student here too. Just… thanks for understanding the other side."

He smiled back but then turned serious. "Good luck with everything this afternoon. I'd try to go myself, but I have a meeting. Stop by my office on Monday and tell me what happened?"

I nodded. "Of course I will. Have a good weekend, Bill."

"You too, Sarah," he said, smiling once more before turning to speak to someone else. As I walked out of the school, I felt as if a huge weight had been lifted. I also felt much better prepared to deal with whatever this memorial service might throw at me.

When I got to the park, I was surprised to see a huge number of people already there. Most of them were dressed in jeans and t-shirts, and their hair was greased like Pony always wore his. I saw Darry right away at the front. Pony was with him, and so was another boy who bore a very strong resemblance to both of them and who I therefore assumed must be Soda. I had started to walk in their direction when Steve Randle suddenly stopped me.

"Mrs. Nelson?" he said hesitantly. I smiled at him. He'd been in my class the previous year, and I'd really liked him. I knew he didn't get along with a lot of his teachers, but I'd never had a problem with him.

"Hi, Steve. How are you?"

He smiled too, but I could see the lines of tension in his face.

"I'm ok. Listen, Pony told me to look out for you since he's kind of busy right now. We saved you a seat. Want me to show you where it is?"

I nodded. "Sure. Thanks for saving it."

Steve led me through rows of chairs that had obviously been donated by people from the neighborhood, and we got to the front row, where he'd saved me the seat on the very end next to a big oak tree. I sat down, dropping my bag on the ground beside me, and Steve suddenly looked very lost.

"Do you want to sit next to me?" I asked impulsively. I'd suddenly remembered something else about Steve. He had a very hard time asking for help, but he also had a very hard time rejecting it if it were offered. He looked relieved and sat down quickly.

"Yeah, thanks. I need to sit up front since I said I'd say something, so this'll work."

We'd been sitting there in silence for a few minutes while everyone else found seats when I finally asked him what he was planning to say. He reached into his pocket and pulled out a crumpled piece of paper.

"Here," he said, dropping it on my lap.

I slowly opened it and started to read. When I finished, my eyes were full of tears, so I waited until I was calm before I looked at Steve again. He saw it in my face, though, and gave me a twisted smile.

"It's going to be awful," he mumbled, taking the paper back from me and staring at the ground.

"I know," I almost whispered. My stomach was starting to hurt. I'd been thinking only of Pony for so long in the context of this memorial that I'd somehow managed to forget that there was a good chance I'd know some of the other kids there, and they might actually need me too. One of the things I've never understood about these events is that when they affect high school kids, their parents don't think they need to be there. I couldn't disagree more, which is why I always make every effort to go. It isn't easy, but it _is_ necessary. I took a deep breath and sat back in my seat. Darry was starting to speak.

"Will everyone please find seats," he called out over the drone of the crowd, and they settled down quickly. Once everyone was in a seat, he took a deep breath and said, "Welcome to the memorial for Johnny Cade. As all of you know, Johnny died a couple of months ago after trying to save some kids from a burning church. He died a hero. Considering that none of us had a chance to really say goodbye to him, it seemed like a good idea for us all to get together as a tribute to Johnny. Since we've started planning this, people have come up to us to tell us that they'd like to speak, so that's going to be the basic format of this memorial. The order of the speakers is Two-Bit Mathews, Tim Shepard, Steve Randle, Ponyboy Curtis, and Sodapop Curtis. Please give each of them your attention. Thanks."

Darry sat down in the seat on the opposite end of my row, and Two-Bit got up. I recognized him from the hallways, but I'd never had him in class. He kind of smiled at the crowd and then launched into a rambling speech about how Johnny was everybody's kid brother and how much they'd all miss him. He spoke pretty quickly and was done much faster than I expected him to be. It was pretty clear that he was nervous, and when he sat down, he seemed to sag with relief. The crowd was sitting quietly when Tim got up and walked to the front. He stood there staring at everyone for a minute before he started to speak.

"I didn't know Johnny as well as some of the other people here. But I know that the world won't be the same without him. I just wish I'd had the chance to get to know him better because it's pretty clear now that I was the one missing out."

I felt a lump forming in my throat. He hadn't said a lot, but he'd made a significant impact on a lot of people. The previously quiet crowd was shifting around in its seats, and I heard some sniffling from behind me, but I didn't turn around. It was Steve's turn, and I squeezed his shoulder before he went. He glanced at me gratefully, squared his shoulders, and stood up.

I watched as he walked to the front of the crowd. He, too, waited like Tim had, but I knew it was because this was suddenly harder than he expected it to be. Finally, before the silence got too uncomfortable, he started to speak.

"Tim said he didn't know Johnny really well. Well, I did. And like Two-Bit said, he was like a little brother to all of us. He'd never have hurt a fly, and he showed that by trying to save some little kids he'd never even met. It cost him his life, but knowing him, he still would have gone into the church even if he'd known this was how it would turn out. He was the one who was going to make a difference in this world, and even though he was only 16, he already did. Maybe that's why he died… he already did more for this world than most people do in a lifetime. I just wish he'd have had more time because the world was better when Johnny was in it. It really was."

My eyes filled with tears as I listened to him, and I was suddenly aware that his voice sounded very different than it normally did. He quickly came back to his seat, and I was ready to give him time and not look at him when I realized _he_ was looking at _me_. His face was twisted as he tried to stay in control… a battle he was clearly losing. I looked at him with so much sympathy in my eyes that it cost him his last bit of resolve, and as the tears filled his eyes, I put my arm around him. He buried his face in his hands and leaned over, silently quivering. He calmed down very quickly, though, and was brusquely wiping his eyes when Pony stood up to speak. His eyes were wide, though, and I knew he'd witnessed Steve's silent breakdown and was shaken by it.

Pony let out a deep breath before he began to talk. "Thanks for coming, everyone. As most of you probably know, Johnny was my best friend. There aren't many people who can understand me in the same way he did, but the number of people who are here should tell everyone something about him. No matter how insignificant he thought he was, he really impacted everyone's life." Pony paused here, and I knew this was getting to him. I could see in his eyes that this was finally becoming reality, and he didn't know how to deal with that. "I don't know what my life will be like without Johnny in it, but I know one thing. I'll never forget him." His voice was starting to fade, and he choked out, "He'll always be my best friend no matter what." Then he quickly walked off towards my end of the row, but he didn't stop. He walked right around the tree. I glanced quickly at Steve to make sure he was ok, and he nodded, so I got up and slipped around the tree myself as Soda got up to talk.

Pony was leaning against the tree on the far side, and tears were sliding down his face as he stared at the ground. He looked up in fear when he heard the footsteps, but as soon as we made eye contact, all semblance of control was gone. He took one step towards me, and I opened my arms quickly, enfolding him in a hug as he completely fell apart. I held on tightly as he shook with sobs, and a small part of me could hear Soda speaking, but I was much more focused on helping Pony. I was just glad he was letting me. He only started to calm down when we realized the service was over, and he took a deep breath, let go of me, and wiped his eyes.

"Thanks," he whispered, and I just patted him on the shoulder. We were still standing there as he took some more deep breaths when we heard some more footsteps, and Soda was suddenly in front of us, looking every bit as upset as Pony had just been. He appeared to not even see me. He just looked straight at Pony, his lower lip quivering, and I watched as Pony did what I had done for him, hugging Soda as he fell apart. I walked away to give them some privacy and found that the park had emptied out pretty quickly. The only people left were Darry, Two-Bit, and Steve. They were just sitting on the side of the fountain, the rest of the guests having taken their chairs with them as they'd gone.

I looked at the three of them, feeling that same lump in my throat. They sat there with red eyes, not looking at each other, so I walked over to them slowly to say goodbye. Darry looked up at me.

"Thanks so much for coming, Mrs. Nelson. It really means so much to all of us to know that you understand and that you care this much."

"I'm just glad I could be here," I said sincerely, and Steve looked up then and smiled slightly. "Thanks," he almost whispered.

I nodded at him. "Of course," I said softly. I sighed. "I'm going to get going."

I had picked up my bag and was about to leave when Darry said, "Mrs. Nelson, I know you were with Pony… is he ok?"

I tilted my head to the side. "I think he's better, but… he's with Soda now…" I was leaving a lot unsaid, but I knew Darry would probably understand, and from the way his eyes widened, I knew he did.

"Thank you," he said as he stood up and started to walk towards the tree. I left then, hoping the Curtis brothers would be able to heal each other. I had a pretty good idea that they could.


End file.
